JP LtCmdr Yogan Yalu & Ens Hiro Jones — Just encase (Part 3)
Yogan Yalu
(( Bridge, Deck 1, USS Artemis ))
Back on bridge duty after his impromptu jog through Sickbay, Yogan didn’t feel quite right. The symptoms he felt were vague and hard to describe. At first it was just a general sense of malaise, which Yogan attributed to the stress and adrenaline crash following their ordeal on Da’al. But as he sat in the command chair and looked at the spinning planet through the viewscreen, his vision started to blur.
Yalu: oO C’mon, Yogo. Focus. Oo
A Betazoid crewman working at one of the science stations looked at him. The stray thought must have been ‘loud’ enough in Yogan’s mind for the science technician to pick it up. Yogan gripped the armrests with sweaty palms and tried to focus his vision.
It didn’t work. In fact, it got worse. Feeling suddenly freezing cold, Yogan shivered uncontrollably, and a pain originating in his leg shot outward in all directions. He struggled to his feet, gripping his knee-pit with one hand and holding onto the command chair with the other. He spoke raggedly and chatteringly.
Yalu: =/\= Bridge to Sickbay. Medical—— ::groans:: emergency on—— =/\=
A wave of debilitating nausea overtook him, and just like that, everything faded to black. Yogan felt his body collide against something, and then something else, before finally coming to rest vaguely horizontally on the deck.
(( Sickbay, Deck 7, USS Artemis — An hour or so later ))
Yogan awoke on a biobed. He opened one eye, but the blinding overhead lights sent a fresh bolt of nausea through his body. A burning sensation shot up and down his right leg, concentrated in his knee pit, which felt like someone pressed against it with a hot poker. He clamped his eyes closed, which momentarily calmed the nausea, and spoke through gritted teeth.
Yalu: What happened?
Jones: The short answer is you collapsed. You’ve been unconscious for about an hour now. How are you feeling?
Yalu: I think I’m going to be sick.
And before he finished the sentence, he was. Summoning the energy to roll over and direct his manifested nausea toward the floor was almost too much for Yogan. It hurt, and not just in an “involuntary abdominal contraction” kind of way. He rolled onto his back and cradled the spot in his gut where Yalu lived. The burning feeling spread upward from his leg into his hip.
Yalu: This doesn’t feel right, Doctor. What’s happening to me?
Jones: I don’t actually have a full answer to that yet.
Hiro stepped around the puddle of sick, making his way to the panel that showed the Commander’s vitals as well as a complicated display of the Trill’s central nervous system.
Jones: As of now, what I can tell you is you’re feeling the after effects of your little hitchhiker. It’s affecting your central nervous system in a way I’ve only heard a couple instances of, but never as the result of a bug bite. ::pause:: It’s not great, Yogan. I won’t try to soften the news. I would like to put you into styrolite and move you to the low-grav ward.
Yalu: Styro-what?
Jones: Styrolite. It’s a specialized form of stasis. It ensures a more complete stasis than simple biostasis or a medically-induced coma. By using the Styrolite, both Yogan and Yalu will be in a state that supports neurological life, albeit slowed, but suspends all other biological functionality.
Yogan recalled a poorly made horror holo where an evil genius put an unwitting victim in suspended animation, only to leave them there for a thousand years. Hiro wasn’t evil, but the thought of being encased in styro still made Yogan uneasy. It was the ultimate loss of control.
Yalu: Is there another alternative we could look at?
Jones: I need time to study your condition, and without this … I’m afraid that’s not a commodity we have enough of.
Yikes. The gravity of the situation was like getting cold-cocked in the stomach. How did a weird knee-pit thing get so serious? Yogan recalled the training he received from the Symbiosis Institute about Joined Trill and bitey critters. He chided himself for naively thinking a bite from an unknown alien wouldn't cause him trouble.
Yalu: Well, then I guess we have to do what we have to do.
The impulse to break the tension with humor was too great to resist. Even in Yogan’s weakened state, he tried to crack a joke.
Yalu: Can we get lunch first? ::beat, gravelly chuckle:: Probably not, huh?
Hiro placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. He could see the worry in his eyes - who wouldn’t be scared? A doctor just told him he was dying, and the only way to save him was to freeze all biological functions while they figured out (a) what was wrong and (b) what the hell to do about it. With a gentle squeeze, he released his grip.
Jones: I can do it right now. I just wanted to talk to you about it first.
Yogan folded his hands across his chest and laid his head back onto the biobed. He tried to make himself as comfortable as possible, and wondered whether he’d be greeted with the quadrant’s worst charley horse when he woke up.
Yalu: Let’s do it.
Hiro nodded, tapped a few commands on the panel, and the arc attached to the biobed on which Yogan lay began to move slowly up his body, encasing him as it went.
Jones: You’re gonna be ok. I won’t let you down. Sweet dreams, Yogan.
The Trill’s eyes drifted closed, Hiro took a deep breath, and got to work.
TBC
Lieutenant Commander Yogan Yalu
Second Officer & Strategic Operations Officer
USS Artemis NCC-81287
D238804DS0